


strangers

by eunzos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunzos/pseuds/eunzos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three stages of a relationship:</p><ul>
<li>
<i>Honeymoon</i>: This is the first few weeks, when you’re both treading carefully, tiptoeing over common-placed issues and neglect in lieu of companionship and emotional fulfillment.</li>
<li>
<i>Trial and Error</i>: This is a few months down, when you both realize the pushing and pulling isn’t because of individualistic stress, but instead, recreational tension.</li>
<li>
<i>Digression</i>: What you have now is not a relationship, but a correlated cause. You recognize this when he raises his voice at you for the first time, and you raise it right back.
</li>
</ul><p>This is not a story about lovers, but rather, strangers who find their way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	strangers

He breaks up with you over a cold cup of coffee.

It’s a Sunday morning in late October, breezy, and you’re both huddled in the corner of a quaint on-campus café your dates frequent. There’s no one else around, save the redheaded barista who’s far too preoccupied with their phone to notice the silent commotion stirring between the two of you. Sunday mornings have always been quiet, but today, the absence of sound is especially deafening.

He — your boyfriend, now ex — takes another sip of his drink. You watch him with close eyes and notice that his Adam’s apple doesn’t bob. When he places the cup down, the bottom is dry with coffee stains. Your cup is in no better condition: he bought it for you, as he would always do, but you haven’t touched it yet. (You only really like coffee when you’re with him.)

“You’re upset,” he says.

 _No shit_ sits on your tongue, and you swallow it whole. “Yeah, I am.”

“Keith.” He reaches out to lay his hand over yours, but you jerk back and tuck your fingers into tight fists. The light in his eyes falter, but he continues: “A break will be beneficial to us, both physically and emotionally.”

“Don’t —” Your voice fries, a sure sign of wariness. “— Don’t make it sound like we’re taking a break.” Because you know him enough, you know this _relationship_ enough, to know that this _break_ is not synonymous with _we’ll get back together eventually_. He wants to break things off, no strings attached.

He lets out a deep breath, eyes dropping, fingers fumbling with the empty cup’s handle. “If .. If you don’t want me to contact you after today, I can do that. I would like us to stay friends, but I understand if you don’t.”

These words don’t hurt you. You’ve prepared yourself for months: countless of sleepless nights, countless of hours in front of the mirror practicing what expression you’ll make — but you’ve never really thought about actually _mentioning_ it. Perhaps you had too much faith in this fruitless relationship.

“Is that all you have to tell me?”

When his brow furrows in response to his voiceless reply, you take his silence as a _yes_. So you stand, chair scratching the marble floor beneath you. He looks up then, his eyes far too kind, and he says, “Your coffee.” His throat is dry, you can hear it in his words.

You glance over at your untouched serving, then without much thought, you reach over and grab your messenger bag. After slinging it around your torso, you tell him, “You can have it,” and you leave.

There are three stages to a relationship:

The first is the _Honeymoon_ stage. This is the first few weeks, when you’re both treading carefully, tiptoeing over common-placed issues and neglect in lieu of companionship and emotional fulfillment. This includes all the times he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, and leads you through sunsets with kisses ‘til dawn. This is when he wakes you up every day with _Good Morning!_ texts, complete with a strewn of beating hearts and a fluttered chest; this is when you go over to his place after a twelve-hour shift, exhausted and baked in sweat and steak sauce, and you’re still eager to see him. Mindful tokens — _gifts_ he presents you with every once in a while — are included in this stage, as are the adventures you take him away for, on the back of your old red pickup.

Here, you find his commanding personality endearing. When he speaks of his passions, you listen intently because you can see how bright his future is; and when he laughs, you swear you’ve found the audible definition of _happiness_. You’re head over heels, heels over head, and you can’t believe how lucky you truly are. But then time passes, and you _learn_.

The second stage is _Trial and Error_. This is a few months down, when you both realize the pushing and pulling isn’t because of individualistic stress, but instead, recreational tension. These are the times when he wordlessly lets go of your hand as he approaches his friends, times when he’s overly affectionate with his mouth on your throat, hands pressed tight against your waist. This is when you just want to _sleep_ , but he’s parading around the room to get ready for his morning routine of going to breakfast and going to the gym; and this is when you feel your chest swell every time you tell him that you can’t make dinner, that you can’t go out on Saturday night, because you’re working _again_. And when he buys you that watch — a Rolex, nearly half of what you’re having to pay for this godforsaken education — you drive him around town, to places he’s already been.

It’s here that you find his protectiveness provocative. _You should eat healthier_ becomes code for _Let me take care of you_ , and _Did I upset you?_ is a memoir to _I don’t understand us_. When he speaks of his future, you try to tune him out because he talks of reaching the stars and he talks of _you_ ; but when he laughs, you’re thrown back in time where happiness resides in your ever-fast beating heart and your stead-struck pink cheeks. You wear your heart on your sleeve, a couple of inches above that watch, and you know he sees it, because he wears his own in the same place too. But then time rewinds, and he _breaks_.

Stage three: _Digression_. What you have now is not a relationship, but a correlated cause. You recognize this when he raises his voice at you for the first time, and you raise it right back. This is when he leaves the door wide open and you slam it shut so you can spend the rest of the night screaming to gods that don’t exist. But this is also the time when he apologizes to you and you reflect his sentiment, and you both turn the blind eye to the _what if_ ’s.

The months that sit comfortably between stage three and today are but a few. You remember them fondly — fondly enough to walk by that same quaint on-campus café on your way back from the library. And when you do, you can’t help but notice that he’s still sitting in that corner, hands folded together, your untouched cup of coffee as his sole company.

 _It’s for the best_ , this is what you tell yourself.

The story of you and him has come to an end.

Now, you’re just strangers with shared memories.

You tighten your hold on the messenger bag and turn your back to walk away. As you do, you hear the familiar _tick tick tick_ of your watch, and almost instinctively, you begin counting back the seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> starting a fic w/ a break up and writing in second pov? * _saito voice_ * don't you want to take a leap of faith....


End file.
